The Obscured Path
by FemaleSpock
Summary: What if Aarch had decided to stay with the Shadows instead of leaving after he got Smog Poisoning? AU, Aarch/Artegor.
1. Chapter 1: The Decision

The Obscured Path

Chapter 1: The Decision

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Galactik Football and I make no money from this fanfiction.**

**Also: I, FemaleSpock, wrote this fanfiction for and should it be seen uploaded elsewhere then it has been posted without permission.**

"_Don't let me down Aarch, don't let me down."_

Aarch opened his eyes; the only sound he could hear was the white-noise roar of the Smog, well that and Artegor's voice, faintly in the background. There were others, other players crowding around him, but he couldn't see them or hear them. Isolation.

He writhed, in terrible pain, in jerky waves up and down his body. He felt cold; so cold. But mostly he could feel the Smog, twisting and turning inside him, he wished so desperately to be rid of it. But if felt too late, it had him now. He had wanted it so badly, worked so hard to get it, but now it seemed that was all for nothing- he'd been so naïve. He hadn't known how it would hurt him; he'd only seen the glory, the power of it.

His head felt the worst, like it was filled with storm clouds, he was more than confused, he hadn't thought clearly in months. When he had used the Breath everything had been so clear, so simple. He had been the Captain of the Team then, living the dream, everything had been going to plan. The ice-age wasn't part of the plan and neither was joining the Shadows. He hadn't expected to end up here. He had been so confident that his life was going to follow the path he had set down, now he couldn't even trust himself anymore.

As he tried to concentrate, to find his strength, he could start to hear Artegor's voice, getting louder and louder. Even in his weakened state he could hear the desperation in Artegor's voice.

"_Don't let me down."_

He didn't want to. He didn't want to let anyone down, not again, he had failed so badly before, he'd not been able to protect Akillian, he'd bolted at the first opportunity. But carrying on with the Shadows, with the Smog, seemed impossible. It was killing him, how could he stay?

It wasn't that he wanted to leave. The thought that he would be would have no-where else to go struck him like lightning, The Shadows had been his best, last chance. He'd never play again if he left, the thought sent shudders up his body. The idea felt so unnatural, he was supposed to be in his prime, football was everything he was born to do, he was nothing without it. He didn't have a family anymore, he didn't have friends.

"_Don't let me down."_

Artegor was repeating the same words, over and over. He was frantic now; the mask of indifference had long since fallen. Aarch couldn't blame him; it was the two of them, if he left who would Artegor have left?

Aarch could feel his resolve to leave weakening. There was no-where to go and no-one to go with. To stay seemed like the easy option now. He was so close to achieving his ambitions with the Shadows, it would be foolish to waste his potential. He could take some pills or something to deal with the Smog poisoning. There was no point in giving up now.

He made his decision and opened his eyes.

"I won't," he said, his voice croaky. He saw relief in Artegor's eyes before being taken off the pitch for the rest of the match. He couldn't play today.

He'd be back though.

**That's it for this chapter, the other chapters will be longer, my first and last chapters just always end up being shorter than the others- not sure why. I know I've already done an AU based on that moment on the Shadows (A Future That Never Happened), but this fic's going to be different because it's focusing on the immediate impact on Aarch and Artegor rather than the effect on Snow Kids, if that makes sense. So yeah, please review, I'll love you if you do!**


	2. Chapter 2: Back From the Brink

The Obscured Path

Chapter 2: Back from the Brink

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Galactik Football and I make no money from this fanfiction.**

**AN: Tillis is my OC- the Coach of the Shadows, he's in my other fic 'Winter Lasts Forever' too. **

Aarch stepped out from the medical bay, slowly finding his feet as he walked back to his room. He still didn't feel quite right but he felt more normal with each step he took. Well, as normal he could do. He had half forgotten what normal felt like; it wasn't possible to use the Smog and remain the same.

He was regaining strength though and that was what was important, he needed to play in the next match, it was the last before the final 16. The Shadows had already won enough matches to qualify but it was essential that they showed their opponents how serious they were about winning this year- like they hadn't been deadly serious about it every other year.

He reached the door, taking a breath before entering. Artegor was sitting on his bed watching holo-tv but he promptly turned it off and stood up when Aarch walked into the room.

"How are you?" Artegor asked, a hint of his old awkwardness in his voice. He'd become so much more aggressive since he joined the Shadows, they both had.

"I'll live."

Artegor nodded. He could have enquired further but he didn't. There were a lot of things he could say but he never did, he couldn't leave himself that open, that vulnerable. He'd been worried, for a moment he'd thought that Aarch might die, for a moment he'd thought that Aarch might leave- which was worse.

"So, did we win?" Aarch said, asking the easy question, football was a constant in both their lives.

Artegor nodded again, there hadn't been much time left when Aarch had fallen but somehow he'd managed to score a goal at the last minute despite the fact that his thoughts were elsewhere. It was so much easier to use the Smog when you were angry.

There was no more conversation that night, they both needed rest after the match, especially after Aarch's 'incident' on the pitch. They hadn't done much in terms of treatment, maybe there was nothing they could do. Aarch tried to convince himself that he'd get used the Smog; Artegor wasn't effected by it, at least not physically.

Despite the fact that he couldn't quite stop himself from worrying, he managed to fall asleep fairly quickly, dreaming fitfully about events that he wouldn't be able to remember when he woke up.

Aarch managed to get back into training easily the next day; it was like nothing had happened, he was reassured that the Smog flare he had experienced had been nothing, just an anomaly. Tillis seemed pleased with his recovery anyway and surely he wouldn't be letting them play if there really was any danger; coaches always had the best interests of players at the forefront of their minds, at least they were supposed to.

It seemed strange to Aarch how quickly he'd gotten used to the red of the Shadow's pitch, it used to look so violent to him, but now it was just part of the background. Everything he saw seemed oddly grey. If not for the few green parts on the uniform, Artegor, with his pale skin and dark hair, could easily have been in a black and white photo.

After practice he was summoned to Tillis' office for a 'friendly chat', the phrasing itself made Aarch feel even more uneasy than he would have already. His Coach wasn't particularly inclined to being friendly; Aarch never quite felt comfortable around him although he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

"Aarch, come in, sit down," Tillis said, attempting a false tone of kindness, a cold undercurrent still apparent in his voice.

Aarch did as he was told. With Tillis there were no requests, just orders, and he expected to be obeyed.

"How are you feeling?" Tillis asked, smoothly.

"Fine, better." It was true but it was also the response that Tillis wanted. Aarch had an irrational fear that if he said one wrong word then there'd be dire consequences.

"Good, good." He paused before continuing. "The Smog requires a strong vessel; no good ever comes to weaklings who try to use it."

Aarch wondered whether he was being kicked off the team; he also wondered whether that would be such a bad thing.

He realised that Tillis was waiting for a response from him.

"I'm not weak." His voice was firm.

"That's excellent news. You certainly are talented; you have the potential to be the greatest striker in the Galaxy, that is, if Artegor doesn't beat you to it."

Aarch said nothing in response to this, he didn't know what to say, he just stared.

"You may go now," Tillis said, dismissing him with a flick of the hand.

Aarch left, mulling over his words. It seemed that Tillis still wanted him on the team, for the meanwhile, his words had been filled with unspoken warnings.

"What did he want?" Artegor asked, when Aarch got back to their shared room.

"Nothing really, just wanted to check on my health, I told him that I'm fine," he replied, shrugging. He knew he was being a lot more casual about it than he really felt.

Artegor nodded. He looked like he was thinking hard but Aarch couldn't tell what about. The more time he spent with Artegor the less well he felt he knew him. He didn't feel like he knew anything about anything anymore. He often wondered what would have happened if the ice-age had never happened, he'd certainly never imagined that he'd end up here.

Aarch didn't know what to say but he couldn't stand another night of silence.

He kissed Artegor instead, gently, as they had when they had lived in more innocent times. Artegor deepened the kiss, making it more aggressive as he had been prone to ever since he'd developed the Smog. Artegor slammed him against the wall, gripping his wrists tightly as if he were afraid to let go.

**That's it for this chapter, I go back to school on Thursday but I hope that the next chapter will be up soon anyway. Please review; reviews rock!**


	3. Chapter 3: Difficult Conversations

The Obscured Path

Chapter 3: Difficult Conversations

**Disclaimer: **** I do not own Galactik Football and I make no money from this fanfiction. **

The next day…

Aarch paced around the room, bored out of his mind. He was sick of holo-tv; it was always the same few programmes, always the same thing. He wished he could get out of his room, he was sick of the room too, it was becoming oppressive, claustrophobic. He wanted to go somewhere, to do something, anything. But he didn't know where to go; he still wasn't that familiar with the Shadows Archipelago, he could easily get lost. Normally he would have ventured out regardless but he felt weirdly agitated yet vulnerable.

He felt he should wait for Artegor as well, after practice he had disappeared without telling Aarch where he was going or even that he was going somewhere. But that was Artegor all over, unwilling to volunteer information. Still, Aarch remembered when they used to talk, about anything and everything. It wasn't that long ago but it felt like years.

He felt lonely without Artegor; he'd gotten used to his constant presence. There was a time when he'd had friends, family, constantly surrounding him. He'd never felt lonely back then. He had to remind himself that he'd made the choice to come here, he wasn't forced. He'd chosen football of his own free will.

He hadn't really been in contact with anyone back on Akillian. He'd called his of his team mates to make sure that they'd know about his joining the Shadows before it was reported on the news. The experience was bad enough that he never called again. It made him feel cowardly but they'd been so angry with him, it was almost enough to make him reconsider his decision.

Norata was the worst; he was furious with Aarch, he hadn't heard him out either- he'd responded angrily to Aarch's confession and then hung up. Aarch didn't try again, there was nothing he could say, and guilt was making him feel uncertain. There was no emotion Aarch liked less than uncertainty. He had to believe in his decision because there was no going back.

He missed Norata the most though. As kids they'd shared everything, the same room, the same dreams. He'd always watched out for Norata, he couldn't do that anymore. Then he had a sudden impulse, going to his computer, he went typed Norata's number (the number that had once been his too) and pressed call.

As it rang, Aarch began to feel nervous, realising that calling Norata perhaps wasn't the best of ideas. He hadn't thought it through; he didn't even know what he was going to say.

It rang for a long time and Aarch half-hoped that he wouldn't pick up. He did though and Aarch was greeted by the sight of Norata's unhappy face.

"Aarch, and what can I do for you?" he spat. Aarch's heart sank; clearly Norata had not forgiven him. It was unlikely that anything he had to say would change his mind, Norata had always been stubborn- even as a child. But he had to try.

"Can't we put all this behind us?"

"You put the whole of Akillian behind you when you left for the Shadows. Now tell me what you want or I'll hang up." There was bitterness written all over Norata's face.

"I just wanted to see how you are," Aarch explained.

"It's a bit late to start caring now. I lost a leg but clearly that wasn't enough to stop you from running off the Shadows."

Aarch started to reply in his own defence but Norata fulfilled his earlier threat and hung up. Aarch felt deflated, he couldn't see how it could have gone worse, it was certainly the last time that he attempt to call Norata- or any of his other old team-mates for that matter. He vowed that he'd get to know the rest of the Shadows a bit better. Sure they might not be the most outgoing bunch but he was sure that once he got to know everyone that he'd discover hidden depths.

What they needed was a group trip out…

Meanwhile, in Tillis' office…

"On the field, every player is your competition- not just those on the opposing team," Tillis said, pouring two drinks of a greenish-grey colour. He handed one to Artegor who took a cautious sip.

"If you want to be the star of the Galaxy then you first have to be the star of the team," Tillis continued.

"That's true," Artegor replied, neutrally, taking another sip.

"And there is only room for one star. I invested in you when I took you from that backwater planet and brought you here; don't let that investment be a mistake."

"There's no mistake; I'll win you the cup," Artegor replied, gulping down the rest of the bitter drink.

"Excellent; just what I wanted to hear. You may return to your room now."

Artegor left and Tillis poured himself another drink. He smirked as he thought of how easy it was to manipulate those two strikers from Akillian, how easy it was to plant thoughts into their brain. He'd taken to two of them on, not knowing who would prove to be the greater striker for the Shadows, it left the options open.

Right now though, Artegor was proving to be more useful to him (Tillis had been his coach's protégé and now Artegor would be his)- he seemed less effected physically by the Smog and there was a darkness inside him that Aarch didn't have. That the two of them seemed to get on wasn't necessarily the best thing, in Tillis' experience, close bonds between team-mates killed any real sense of competition between members of the team. Tillis knew that only by seeing Aarch as a rival, could Artegor really live up to his potential. And if it all pushed Aarch to be better then that was also to his advantage. If it scared him off then so be it; he only needed one human striker. Tillis reclined in his chair, safe in the knowledge that no matter what happened it would be he who won in the end.

Artegor came back into the room to find Aarch waiting anxiously for him.

"We're going out tomorrow night," Aarch said, as soon as Artegor had sat down.

"What? Where?"

"Not sure just yet, the rest of the team is coming so they'll know where the best bars are."

Artegor just blinked. A night on the town. With the Shadows. He had the distinct feeling that this was going to end in disaster.

**See whether his fears are unfounded next chapter! Sorry it took a while for this chapter to come out, I had to write my personal statement for uni (the person who invented personal statements is pure evil). Also, I hope you guys don't mind that Tillis is kind of the villain in this story, I just really enjoy writing about his evil ways and Artegor has to have got his manipulative ways from somewhere, right? Please review and let me know what you think of the chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4: Paved with Good Intentions

The Obscured Path

Chapter 4: Paved With Good Intentions

**Disclaimer: I do not own Galactik Football and I make no money from this fanfiction. I do, however, own my OCs: Tillis, Grilha, Deska, Nilihi and Kilmus. **

After practice, the next day, everyone went back to their rooms with the plan to meet in the Shadows common room at 8.

"This'll be a great opportunity to get to know everyone better," Aarch said to Artegor, he'd already said several things of a similar nature in the past hour; he was obviously more than a little anxious.

Artegor on the other hand was just lying on his bed, not fussed; he had to wonder why Aarch had even organised the stupid thing in the first place if it was causing him so much stress. He didn't know why Aarch was so agitated; he didn't know how isolated Aarch felt.

"We have two hours before we need to go," Artegor stated, grabbing Aarch's hand to pull him so that he was sitting on the bed rather than pacing around the room. Ever since he'd got the Smog, Artegor had found it so much easier to act rather than talk.

"Relax," he instructed.

A moment passed silently before Artegor decided to take action and pounced on Aarch- it was one way he could force Aarch to relax and they did have two hours to fill…

Two hours later…

"Is everybody here?" Aarch asked to the group gathered in the Shadows common room.

"Doesn't matter, there should be no tolerance for late-comers. Let's go," said Grilha, the team Captain, instinctually taking control of the situation.

He marched out and they all followed (as it happened they were all there). Aarch was already getting the distinct impression that a team outing perhaps wasn't his brightest idea but there was no turning back now…

They followed Grilha through the streets to a bar named 'Abyss' and sat down at a table. Grilha seemed to know the way off by heart so Aarch wondered whether he came there often.

"Get us drinks!" Grilha ordered Nilihi, slapping him on the shoulders in a manly fashion. Nilihi rolled his eyes but nevertheless did what he was asked- he was always picked on to do these sorts of errands being the most passive of all the team members.

"Thanks, sweetie," Deska called after him- they had been married for about two months and their relationship was affectionate by Shadows standards. It was enough to make Aarch feel almost jealous, not because he wanted Deska or Nilihi, but because they had something so solid. His own relationship with Artegor felt fragile, there was very little binding them together and it was a worry that they could break apart at any minute.

He looked at Artegor but with the sunglasses on it was impossible to tell whether he was looking back at him or not.

The arrival of Nilihi carrying the drinks snapped Aarch out of his thoughts.

"Thanks," he said, as Nilihi set down a unappetizing grey-brown liquid in front of him. He peered at it and wondered whether it was edible. He reminded himself that he was there to try new things and to integrate with the Shadows so he bravely took a big gulp of the mystery drink. The initial flavour was vaguely unpleasant but the after-taste was nice enough. He felt wholly undecided as to whether or not he liked the drink but he found he got more accustomed to it the more he drank. Artegor drank his far faster than Aarch- it looked like he had had it before.

"I'm so glad I suggested this," said Grilha, neglecting to mention that it had actually been Aarch's idea. "Even if it is just to get away from Coach and his constant nagging, who does he think he is, my mother?"

"Well, maybe if you hadn't told him that his Coaching was useless then maybe he'd have left you alone," Kilmus pointed out, laughing deeply at their Captain. From what Aarch could gather, Kilmus had been Grilha's childhood friend and that put him in the unique position of being able to make jokes at his expense and get away with it.

"What did he want with you the other day?" Grilha asked Artegor, ignoring Kilmus' comment, trying to get the whole group back on the track of complaining about Tillis.

Aarch wondered what time he was talking about, he hadn't been aware of Artegor seeing Tillis any time recently.

"Nothing really, he just wanted to remind me of things I already know," Artegor answered, evasively.

"It's just because he's Coach's favourite," Kilmus said, eying Artegor in a distinctly unfriendly manner, there was a strange glint in his eyes that made Aarch nervous for Artegor.

"He has a thing for humans, I'm telling you, his ex-wife was human," Deska said, lightly, breaking some of the tension.

"And you don't?" Kilmus countered referring to the fact that when Aarch and Artegor had joined the Shadows she had been distinctly flirtatious with them.

Nilihi coughed as if to remind them all that it was his wife they were talking about as well as to simply remind them that he was still there.

"Don't worry, you're still my number one," Deska quickly reassured him.

"But he's not the only one though!" Kilmus added causing Deska to hit him over the head with her handbag.

They stayed there for several more rounds of drinks before Grilha announced that they were moving onto a club next.

They all followed him along. Aarch wondered how long they were going to stay out, he was having fun but they still did have training tomorrow morning at 6- he didn't fancy using the Smog with a hangover either.

Still he went onto the dance floor with the other Shadows and tried to copy along with the militaristic moves that seemed normal there- certainly nothing like the loose jumping up and down that that was the closest thing there was to dance on Akillian.

It was all going fine until all of a sudden they heard a crashing sound from across the room, despite the droning techno music. They all looked and saw Kilmus apparently fighting with several natives that were unfamiliar to Aarch.

"This always happens," Nilihi said, sighing.

"Come on, boys, let's make it a fair fight," Grilha said, in a matter of fact way, clearly he was used to stepping in.

Aarch felt alarm shoot through him; he'd never been in a fight unless you counted the play fights that he'd had with Norata. He looked to Artegor who seemed almost pleased at the idea which only made Aarch more nervous. He'd never seen Artegor fight either, not unless you counted the occasional foul on the field.

Despite his reluctance, he knew that he was expected to follow, there was no way they'd respect him if he didn't back them up. Besides, part of him wanted too, he could feel the Smog within him, that familiar feeling of pure frustration worming his way through his bloodstream.

He felt an odd constriction in his chest, he could see Artegor had leapt in there, anger etched obviously across his features as he pummelled a guy. Aarch clutched his stomach, feeling it clenched in agony. He could feel the Smog in his airways, in every part of him, it was overwhelming.

He collapsed on the floor, coughing uncontrollably before blacking out entirely….

**That's it for this chapter; hopefully the next chapter will be soon! Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5: Irreversible

The Obscured Path

Chapter 5: Irreversible 

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Galactik Football and I make no money from this fanfiction.**

Artegor just sat there by Aarch's bedside, saying nothing, doing nothing. He wasn't crying and he wasn't holding Aarch's hand either. He just sat there like a statue, a gargoyle- as if being there would somehow protect him. It was fascinating for Tillis to watch.

After Aarch had collapsed the team had brought him back to the Academy, to the medical centre. Such team spirit. Such weakness. Tillis would have just left him, back when the Shadows were strong there would have been none of this coddling of those too weak to handle the Smog; they had been a truly great team then.

And, as for Artegor, he would have to be slowly separated from Aarch if he was to be of any use at all. He couldn't throw Aarch out, replace him with someone else, he'd risk Artegor leaving with him. It needed to be subtle, to slowly draw Artegor away from Aarch and re-make him in his image. Perhaps Aarch would leave anyway; he'd been on the brink of it the last time he'd been affected, if that was the case Tillis would hardly go out of his way to discourage him. He'd observed Artegor enough to know that he'd never forgive Aarch for leaving of his own free will; it'd be a personal betrayal.

But he couldn't count on Aarch's leaving and he didn't necessarily want him too, he was after all, a good striker, it was a pity that he didn't have more of an affinity with the Smog.

Tillis decided that now was the time to make his entrance, to take Artegor away from that room, from that mode of being. He strode through the door, startling Artegor out of his stasis.

"There's nothing you can do for him. But you can come with me."

By 'can' he meant 'will', he knew that it was important to maintain the illusion of choice, especially with someone like Artegor.

"Where?" Artegor asked, obstinately, he didn't want to leave Aarch's side and he wasn't just going to consent to whatever suggestion Tillis had in mind, he didn't entirely trust him (he didn't entirely trust anyone).

"You'll see. Come."

He left the room, not looking back, and smirked as he heard the gentle sound of Artegor's footsteps following him. He'd known that Artegor would follow, partially because he knew he had no choice but to obey, and partially because he was just curious. Tillis knew his type well, in fact Artegor reminded him of himself when he younger.

Artegor was tired; he'd been with Aarch all through the night until morning, the promises of the medic that he'd recover feeling meaningless. Aarch was his, the only person who'd ever belonged with him; the thought of losing him was an incomparable pain, a pain he'd never imagined in the dull days before they had met.

They came to a block of flats, as non-indicative as could be. Tillis rang the buzzer and announced himself. They were let in and they walked the steps up to the third floor flat where Tillis knocked loudly on the door.

"Tillis! You didn't say you were coming, then again, you never warn me in advance. And who's your friend? Well come in then," the man who was presumably the owner of the flat said, jovially, seeming pleased to see Tillis, a fact that surprised Artegor.

"Thank you," Tillis replied, coolly, entering the flat, sitting down immediately. Artegor followed trying not to appear tentative.

"My brother didn't introduce us, I'm Kheldere, it's nice to meet you," he said holding out his hand for Artegor to shake.

"Artegor," he replied, shaking the offered hand. He was surprised that anyone so happy could be related to Tillis, the two were as different as night and day. "You're brothers?"

"Half-brothers," Tillis explained.

"I was raised on Akillian, by my mother," Kheldere added, obviously having had to explain his unusually sunny (by Shadows' standards) disposition.

"Now that's out of the way, I'll get onto the reason I came here…"

"It's always business with you, Tillis, no time for simple catching up," Kheldere joked fondly.

Artegor felt awkward sitting in on this little family reunion, he wondered, again, why Tillis had brought him here, a question that was about to be answered.

"I want you to mark him with one of the old tribal markings."

"What?" Artegor spluttered.

"Just two thin lines, one down each side of the face. It's a mark of honour, it'll mark you as our champion striker," Tillis appealed to his pride. He neglected to mention the fact that it marked him as belonging to their planet, to him. He wanted to brand Artegor as farmers branded cattle. A clear mark of ownership.

Artegor was silent, clearly considering the proposal. Tillis took this as a sign of agreement and gestured to his brother to get his equipment out.

A while later…

"All done," Kheldere said, cheerily, handing Artegor a mirror.

He took it and considered his reflection. Tillis had been right, the lines were very thin, it didn't change much about his appearance. Artegor had never considered himself particularly handsome (which was probably why he channelled most of his grooming effort into his hair) and whilst the lines hardly made him more attractive they did make him look far more menacing. Artegor decided he liked them; he didn't really have a choice- he was stuck with them now anyway.

"Thank you," he said, formally.

"Don't mention it!"

"We'll be going now," Tillis replied, he'd got what he needed; there was no need to draw it out.

"Come again, soon," Kheldere replied, family was important to him, and he really didn't see enough of his older brother for his liking.

They walked back to the Academy and Tillis noted that the first thing Artegor did was go check on Aarch who had apparently woken up just then minutes ago. He wasn't displeased though, things were starting to move in the direction he wanted.

"You're awake," Artegor stated.

"Yeah, what happened?"

"You blacked out in the middle of the club, don't you remember?"

Aarch thought back and remembered the fight that had broken out.

"I remember," he said, grimly.

"How do you feel, now."

"I feel…" Aarch stopped mid-sentence and gaped at Artegor. "What the hell happened to your face?"

"Tillis took me to get them, they're old Shadow's tribal markings," Artegor explained, calmly.

"Are they permanent?"

Artegor nodded; dismayed at the negative reaction he was getting from Aarch.

Aarch just shook his head, not understanding why Artegor would have done something like that to his face. The Smog was clearly clouding Artegor's mind as it was poisoning Aarch's body. He felt a resolve now, he'd get the two of them out of there, nothing good was coming of their decision to come to the Shadows- football wasn't worth all this.

**Uh, yeah, that's it for this chapter. I don't think it is one of my best. It's one of the great mysteries of GF why Artegor has some strange lines on his face in the present but when he's seen in flashbacks he doesn't…so I wanted to give some explanation of it in this story. Oh, and tell me if you're annoyed by me putting too much Tillis in the fic please let me know (I know that reading about people's OCs isn't usually very interesting). **


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